Chapter 12. The way to the lavender garden


wavesChapter 12. The way to the lavender garden

The sunrise was shining on his face, the face of a kind man, a man that was so good to not judge the life, but learn from it. No, I was not thinking about him as being “my man”, because my love for him did not imply any possession of his soul. It was him, the man of his own soul, the one granting me love and respect. The bed sheet had a bright white colour, that was getting broken into million pieces of light and gratitude towards those taking so good care of us. His softly tanned arm was resting on my hand, receiving calm touches, and the perfume of the lavender flowers from our garden was bringing a piece of our home into the room.

I was spoiling his silence telling him about our little miracle. My tummy was getting a new shape and I was laughing around him about the little balloon I was about to become thanks to my endless desire to eat chocolate cakes. Everyday I was inviting the morning air to refresh the room, to refresh my hope that his hand would touch our baby. The little tail of Adhira, who was accepted by the hospital staff, was tickling the soles of his feet while playing around, trying to quietly motivate him to get up. I was counting the drops of his perfusion while telling him those were his calories allowance.

I was singing to him what used to remember me about us, about our nights in two, about fights or moments of peace. About him and what he really was. Every evening, I was reading over the album of moments, telling him about colours and fragrances, about emotions and expectations. I stopped always when reaching the moment that brought him there, respecting the silence of a life error that wanted to hit us in the awe of our joy.

What would we become without learning what happiness is without feeling its own absence? What would be the light without the darkness and the essential without the superficial? I was telling him how the genuine kindness is the key to ending all the suffering. The love for all that existed was probably the only way to clear away the past and create the so much desired beauty of life. How could I acknowledge that the beauty was something so simple, rooting down till the essence of love and kindness? Following the natural way of every day, with expected steps to be taken and expected dangers to avoid, I forgot to truly look inside myself and meet the whole Universe. Yes, there, within me, within you, within anyone…

I was kissing his shoulder with every sunrise. Every morning, I was asking him to forgive. To forgive me for not seeing the urgency when my office was broken into, for hiding that from him, thinking I did more good than harn. I was whispering words of faith, telling him that when he would forgive, he would come back and meet the infinite love. Kissing his forehead, I was going away for a couple of minutes every once in a while, giving him time to be alone, with his own quiet thoughts, a time I would have given if he was rational. I was treating him with a platonic care, having the ordinary attitude just as he was Oliver, the day by day one. I was aware of his desires and hidden wishes and I knew how to respect them in the deepest detail. Meditating every day while holding his hand, I was sending him honest support and love.

Anything I was writing for the magazine was getting through his silent criticism and I was listening to him with my soul, with my eyes closed. Because everything that seemed foggy and with no sense was receiving deep meanings when I stopped listening with my ordinary hearing.

The past weeks I remained stubborn, wiping away my sad tears and replacing them with a smile of hope. Oliver could not recover till that time, but my my faith that anything was possible was keeping me glued to that chair next to his bed.

I received that warm morning with salutations to the Sun, thanking it for light and life. Sleepy, I kissed Oliver’s shoulder, with murmurs of love. His skin was soft, among waves and sails, leaving traces of his perfume on my lips. Adhira kissed his hand with her humid and warm nose, instead of “Good morning”. Resting my head on his chest, I was listening to his heart beating so harmoniously.

“Wake up, sweetheart, the Sun has risen. We are here, waiting for you.”

Without any answer, I kissed him one again dreaming at our family in the lavender garden and I walked to the window. My cup of warm coffee was almost empty…

“I am, Sof. I’ve always heard you…” , his warm voice brought honor to the Sun that morning.


***The end***

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